Tame Chapter 1

My heart was pounding so fast that it was on the verge of bursting through my chest. Mr. Richwood was holding me in his arms, bridal style, however my arms weren’t wrapped around his neck the way the a newly wed wife does it, but instead squished together in front of me since it was a reflex my body had made to protect me while I was falling.

I had never been so close to him before, let alone come this close in body contact with him. I stared into his amazing eyes and made the mistake of letting my eyes drop toward his lips. His cologne was so strong that I could taste it on my tongue. He was holding me in his arms not displaying the slightest indication that I was heavy which made consider how strong he was or perhaps how thin I was.

Mr. Richwood stared at me for a moment, looking caught off guard himself by the way his rescue had turned out. He slowly released me from his arms, until I was able to balance my feet on the ground and stand up by myself. He then took his arms off of me. He had been holding me for barely ten seconds, but to someone who was hiding their feelings for some it felt like an eternity.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a great deal of concern.

I couldn’t speak. My heart beat was so loud and fast that my mind couldn’t focus on helping me form words. Instead, all attention was devoted to the fast pumping blood vessels in my chest.

“That was…,” Mr. Richwood stared at stool appearing unsure of what to say to compensate for the inappropriate body contact that surfaced between us. “…kind of dangerous. You should be careful next time.”

I nodded because I still couldn’t find my voice. Mr. Richwood stared at me for a moment, unsure of what else he could say to ease the awkward atmosphere that was surrounding us. He scratched his head and just as he was preparing to speak the door opened up and in walked Ashley.

I felt slightly exasperated by her presence because now she would tell Heather where I went for lunch and they would want in on it, but at the same time I was relived she had come because I had lost my voice and didn’t know what to say.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here,” Ashley quickly said. “I can come back if you want,”

“No, it’s okay.” Mr. Richwood sounded relieved as he made his way over toward Ashley.

I checked the clock and realized it was time for me to head to study hall. I wasn’t sure what Mr. Richwood was talking to Ashley about, but I didn’t really care. I grabbed my uneaten bag of lunch and made my way toward the door. Mr. Richwood interrupted Ashley in the middle of their conversation to address me.

“’Bye Amanda,” Mr. Richwood said.

“’Bye,” I heard my voice as I dashed out through the hallway.

My heart was still doing back flips. I walked to study hall allowing myself to relive that moment. It was such a special experience. When I was in Mr. Richwood’s arms it just felt so right, so natural. I knew it would probably never happen again, but I just felt an ineffable happiness inside of me when thinking about being so close to him.

I had only wished I didn’t screw it up by giving him the silent treatment.

_________

After school I met Dan in the parking lot. He had described his car to me earlier as a gray Ford Escort that he parked in the lot next to the flag pole. It took me a few minutes and I had to yield to a few students who were pulling out of the parking lot, but I found his car parked where he said it would be.

I reached his car to find that he wasn’t there yet which meant that I was going to have to wait for him. I leaned along the side of the car and watched all the other teenagers climb into their vehicles and drive off.

After a moment, I caught a glimpse of Heather, Ann Windslow, Lydia, and Ashley climbing into a car, with Ann behind the wheel. As they pulled out of the parking lot I hid to avoid being seen by them. I was worried about Ashley. If she told Heather that I had lunch with Mr. Richwood then that was going to ruin it.

I was crouched on the side of the car at the front of the wheel on the driver’s side when Dan found me.

“What are you doing?”

I was startled by his voice since he had walked up behind me. I slowly rose to my feet and turned around to face him. He had his book bag slung over his shoulder and was flipping through several keys on a key chain.

“I saw Heather and I didn’t want her to know I was waiting for you.”

Dan nodded revealing that he understood. He unlocked his car door and climbed into the driver’s seat while I took the passenger’s seat. I didn’t have to worry about having my mother’s consent to spend the day over at Dan’s house because I knew that she was working. She was always working.

The car ride was pretty silent. I suddenly felt shy and didn’t know what to say. Dan, who had a hard time talking to girls, appeared to be uncomfortable as well. He fiddle with the radio a few times, but never actually found a station to keep it on. It was simply a gesture that gave him something to do.

After awhile I blurted out a question that came across my mind.

“So…where do you live?”

“Northern Park Avenue,” he answered quickly.

Northern Park Avenue was the farthest area from the school that several students lived at. Most of the population who attended our high school lived within walking distance, but most Northern Park Avenue students reached our school by car or bus since it was almost five miles away.

As Dan pulled into the neighborhood I began to notice the houses were becoming slightly larger and the area displayed nature’s natural beauty with fresh, trim green lawns mapped out along the landscape and thick tall trees.

Dan pulled into the driveway of a tall house with starch white paint covering the exterior. The house was slightly larger than my own, but I wouldn’t classify it as a home of someone that was rich.

We climbed out of the car and made our way up the walk way. I was surprised that Dan turned the door knob that wasn’t even locked and he made his way into the house. I guessed that this neighborhood was so safe that no one needed to lock their doors or that maybe his family members were just irresponsible.

We entered the house and there was some very loud rock music blaring. Dan led me down a lavish hallway and we made our way toward a kitchen door. A girl, who looked like she was in her early twenties, was in the kitchen sitting on the table with music on an Ipod connected to a stereo blasting extra loud. She had a sandwich in her hand and her cell phone in the other.

She had blonde hair with red and black highlights that was tied back in a pony tail. Her eyes were surrounded with dark massacre that gave her this punk rocker kind of look. She had thick eyelashes coded with dark eye liner. There was a piercing in the tip of her right nostril and one in her left eye brow. The girl wore a black short sleeve t-shirt and some dark black jeans.

When she spotted Dan her eyes darted toward me and then back to Dan. The girl reached over and turned the stereo down and directed her words toward Dan.

“Mom said that you have to take out the trash out before it gets dark,”

“Fine, can you turn that down? I have a guest.”

The girl looked over at me, looking me up and down from head to toe, and then rolled her eyes at her brother. Dan motioned for me to come and we made our way down the hallway with the music now blaring louder than it was when he had first entered the house.

“That’s my sister Kimberly. She’s a real jerk.”

“How old is she?”

“What?” Dan shouted due to the loud music blaring in the background.

“How old is she?”

“She’s about twenty,”

Dan led me toward the end of the hallway and opened a door that was waiting at the end of the hall. He flipped a switch on the wall and I followed him down a long staircase that led into a basement.

The basement wasn’t the creepy or scary kinds you read about in books or saw in horror movies. It actually reminded me of a regular family room. The floor was covered with starch white carpet that matched the pale walls. There was a pale blue couch sitting in the center of the room that was ten feet from a flat screen television that was attached to the wall behind it by large handles.

I spotted a fire place in a corner of the basement toward the back. The fireplace was currently out of use, but I was under the impression that the family used it regularly due to the large stack of chopped wood that sat in a crate next to the fireplace.

There were a few more sofas spread out around the area that were within view of the television set. I spotted a large bookcase filled with hundreds of books covering an entire wall. On the opposite side of the room was a large table that I suspected was used as some sort of study area.

“My parents have a strict rule about bringing guests down here and not to our rooms,” Dan said as he climbed over the couch in the center of the room and flopped down on it. “So just…make yourself at home.”

I followed Dan over to the couch, but instead of sitting next to him, I sat on a small table that was placed in front of the couch most likely to place food on that was being eaten in this area.

“So how are we suppose to begin these lessons?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Dan said as he shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

“Well…what is it that you have problems with?”

“I can’t just approach a girl and talk to her…I get nervous.”

“You talk to me.”

“I get nervous around beautiful girls.”

I felt a frown forming across my face as I was beginning to feel slightly offended by Dan’s remark. He appeared oblivious to the attack he had made on my feelings. I usually let insults fly, but if I was going to be teaching him anything I should be honest with him or else it would interfere with my work.

“That’s an insult,” I said flatly. “You basically just called me ugly.”

“No, it’s not,” he said placing his feet on the table next to me. “You’re pretty…but girl’s like Heather are beautiful.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked sounding confused. “Pretty and beautiful are the same thing.”

“No they’re not,” he tried to explain. “Okay, like a baby can be pretty, but a model or like an actress is beautiful. Pretty is like this innocence and beautiful is like this attractive thing that men can’t resist.”

I grimaced. If Dan was trying to not to offend me or make me feel good about myself he wasn’t doing a very good job at it because I felt worst when he explained to me this so called difference between pretty and beautiful.

I stood up and smacked his legs off the table. Dan flinched and stared at me baffled as if my attack on him was something that was not in my nature.

“What’s your-”

“It’s no wonder you need my help because with that mouth I’m surprised that every girl you talk to doesn’t smack you in the head.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Listen Dan…before you make me mad we should start these lessons. So come on…I’ll teach you how to act confident and what not to say and what you should say,” I then placed my hands on my hips and turned to him and said. “Rule number one, never, ever, ever say what you just said to me ever again or every girl you reveal that to will smack you in your mouth,”